John F. Kennedy and the Rings of Responsibility

by Howard Gardner

For those of us over the age of 70, the name “John F. Kennedy” brings back vivid memories: his youthful energy,  meteoric rise to the presidency,  apparently storybook marriage, event-filled 1000 days in his office—and of course, his tragic assassination and the ill luck that plagued and has continued to plague the Kennedy family.  As his aide Daniel Patrick Moynihan reflected shortly after Kennedy’s death, “We’ll laugh again but we’ll never be young again.”

Of course, for those a generation younger, Ronald Reagan is vivid while Kennedy is but a distant name—just as, for my parents’ generation, Franklin Roosevelt dominated their consciousness, while his cousin Theodore was just for the history books... and the face of Mt Rushmore.

But whether you know the details of Kennedy’s life, or just some headlines from movies or  stories, you probably have an opinion of his presidency:  how successful it was, whether he achieved what he wanted, whether what he achieved was good for the country, how he related to persons, institutions, and issues—to put it bluntly, whether, as a president, he carried out “good work”, was OK, or not up to the task.

I’ve wondered this myself for many years—and my own views have swung back and forth. 

On the ‘"good Kennedy” side of the scale:  he was highly intelligent and articulate, made excellent appointments, and after some early blunders, reached wise and courageous decisions, particularly with reference to foreign affairs.  Of critical importance, once he realized that the struggle for control over Vietnam was a never-ending morass, he would have found a way to withdraw American forces…. and the latter part of the 1960s would have been entirely different

On the “not good” side of the scale:  he was a spoiled East Coast playboy.  His father, a person of great wealth and questionable ethical standards, “bought” his son elected offices, including the presidency.  JFK himself was an ardent cold warrior; he displayed cowardice with respect to the case of Senator Joseph McCarthy and was as diffident as possible on civil rights.  And as a man of the mid-century, who had accused the Republicans of allowing a missile gap with the Soviet Union, he would never have had the courage to withdraw from Indo-China .

But now I have two new tools with which to ponder this question: a biographical tool—an impressive biography of the young Kennedy; and a conceptual tool—the rings of responsibility

A Biographical Tool

I had thought that we had our fill of books about JFK, but now Swedish-born Harvard historian Fredrik Logevall has written a hefty volume on the first part of Kennedy’s life—up through his unsuccessful bid for the vice-presidency in 1956. (Still to come in Volume 2: JFK’s run for the presidency in the late 1950s; his closely won election in 1960; and the 1000 days before his assassination). The book is thoroughly researched, carefully argued, and well written. I doubt that we will need to have another book on young Kennedy. Unlike Robert Caro, author of five volumes on Lyndon Johnson, Logevall has not devoted most of his writing life to a single President—and yet, the Logevall volumes may well become the definitive life of JFK.

As one who has become increasingly critical of JFK over the years, I can affirm that Logevall does not attempt to hide JFK’s weak spots—his reckless womanizing,  even with women whose other political or criminal liaisons were being investigated by the FBI;  his careless treatment of one-time friends, his startling insensitivity to wife Jackie’s wants and needs, his reluctance to speak out on issues of civil rights,  the dispute about how much he  himself wrote of the Pulitzer Prize winning “Profiles of Courage,” and most damningly, his unwillingness first to denounce and then to vote to censure the reckless demagogue Senator Joseph McCarthy (who was  a friend of the senior Kennedy and for a time the boss of brother Robert Kennedy).  At the same time,  JFK seems to be admired by the author—I expect that the Kennedy Presidency will get high marks in volume 2.

I’m neither an historian or a biographer.  I was engrossed by the book (read it in two sittings) but don’t feel competent to comment on it critically. But as a social scientific researcher—one long interested in what it takes to carry out “good work”—I was struck by an unusual and unexpected aspect of young JFK’s life.

The Rings of Responsibility  

In our studies of ‘good work (thegoodproject.org), we denote and analyze individuals’ recognition of the “rings of responsibility”—these are the areas of life experience about which individuals show (or do not show) concern.  For the most part, young children are interested in and concerned about themselves and their immediate family—psychologists often speak about the egocentrism of the young. Our research has revealed that circles gradually expand—as they grow, individuals become concerned about friends; then about neighbors and those who live in their community; then as they become adults, about the atmosphere and relations at their workplace and the health of their profession; and gradually, in the most impressive cases, about their relation to the wider world, including individuals and even regions of which they do not have much personal experience.

On this analysis JFK turns out to have been very unusual. From a very early age, he was interested in large scale adventures involving conquering heroes; and while many young people, especially boys, admire super-heroes, JFK was equally interested in live historical figures—most particularly, by Winston Churchill. (It helped that as a youth he had met many political and religious leaders, including the Pope, but so had dozens of other young persons who came from powerful families).  Nor did he simply echo his father’s views—while his father clashed repeatedly with Winston Churchill, JFK admired Churchill’s foresightedness and his conduct in the 1930s and thereafter.

An indifferent student throughout his formal education (though he was talented enough and wealthy enough to gain access to elite institutions), young JFK  focused on what he found most intriguing:   political and historical events and figures—the outermost rings in our scheme. That’s what he thought about, studied in depth, wrote about, identified with—from childhood on.

JFK’s family was incredibly close knit. He was the third of nine children; they all spent a great deal of time together and were tightly bonded with one another.  Within the family, the boys took unquestioned precedence; no matter how personally impressive they might have seemed to others, the girls were almost considered decorative. Father Joseph Kennedy was a  lifelong womanizer, whose covert and overt infidelities were tolerated by his wife, and the five sons clearly saw this pattern as one to be emulated—sometimes fathers and sons even competed for the affection of the same woman! 

Tellingly, when any non-family member attempted to broach the family circle in anyway, these ‘intruders’  were clearly and sometimes roughly rebuffed. Indeed, throughout her relatively short and (we learn) very tumultuous marriage to “Jack”, Jacqueline Kennedy never felt that she belonged in the family. The inner ring was very tight and not easily broached. Tragically,  Rosemary,  the one disabled child, was lobotomized and essentially expelled from the family.

Once his older brother Joseph had been killed in an air crash in World War II (when JFK was in his middle 20s), JFK clearly became the family member destined for politics. And indeed, right after the War, with ample help from his father’s financial base and from all members of the family, he was elected to the House of Representatives. He began a rapid rise to the Presidency, indeed at the time of his ascendancy to that office, he was the youngest person ever to win a presidential election.

During his relatively brief terms in the House and Senate, JFK worked hard and was deemed competent; but biographer Logevall  suggests that (unlike most Massachusetts politicians who gained national stature) JFK was really not interested in local or regional issues—and, as noted, the young politician steered away from issues which were controversial and might lose him votes in forthcoming elections.  From his first days in the House of Representatives he had his eye on the Presidency and – with whatever help he could garner—would do what was necessary to achieve that goal. 

Importantly, in addition to the assistance of  cash and kin, Kennedy also had incredible human help along the way—friends, hired staff assistants, and above all Theodore Sorensen, a gifted young lawyer who essentially devoted his life to JFK from the time that they first met in 1953 until Kennedy’s assassination and indeed, one could add, until Sorensen’s own death almost  half a century ahead.

It must be stressed that Kennedy gained the support of such individuals not only for his intellectual and political acumen because of a property that cannot be purchased or faked—personal charisma. Logevall presents numerous vivid examples of how young JFK was able to attract and retain the affection of others—men and women, young and old,  from his own Boston-Irish class and from demographies remote, in person or via the media, notably television . Indeed, few of us who were enamored of Kennedy in the late 1950s and early 1960s knew him personally (I once got a letter from him, no doubt signed by an office machine, and actually spied him at a  Harvard football game a month before he was assassinated); but we felt a strong attraction to him, his photogenic family, and his “New Frontier”.  

Returning to the rings of responsibility, JFK seems to have been quite unusual. I find little evidence in the biography for a concern with the feelings and reactions of peers that transcends the transactional: JFK was charming but when individuals—male or female—were no longer of use to him, he had few qualms about removing himself from their circle. (I should acknowledge his heroic efforts to save members of his naval crew when their boat PT109 was sunk). By the same token, while he paid lip service to the issues that arose in Boston or in the New England region, these clearly did not compel his attention. And when there were national issues on which he might have spoken up—specifically civil rights and McCarthy—he found it convenient to mute his tongue and pocket his pen. 

Perhaps we can say that Kennedy was destined to occupy the widest circles of responsibility—dealing with issues of war and peace across the international landscape—but that does not indicate whether he would handle them effectively. For one person’s considered view, we must await the second volume of Logevall’s biography.

The case of JFK raises intriguing further issues. How usual or unusual is it for individuals who seek and attain the highest rings of power to move easily to that region or even to skip the intermediate rings altogether? Comparisons  could be instructive: with others who attain national and international leadership roles at an early age—Churchill, deGaulle come to mind; as well as with others, like Richard Nixon,  Ronald Reagan, or Bill Clinton—who were able to transcend a childhood with few of the supports that the Kennedy children took for granted.

© Howard Gardner 2020

Tackling Dilemmas at Work

by researcher Kirsten McHugh

We at The Good Project talk a lot about ethical dilemmas and how these sorts of difficult scenarios can make achieving good work so challenging. My colleagues and I have recently formalized our approach to confronting dilemmas at work. We refer to this approach as “The 5 D’s” and touched on it briefly in our group post, “The Good Project and COVID-19”. 

To bring this tool to life, let’s take a look at how we might apply The 5 D’s to one of The Good Project narratives: A Tale of Two Lawyers.

In this real-life narrative, Joseph is a lawyer presented with the opportunity to represent a large bank in his city with a new acquisition deal. Unfortunately, the terms of the agreement required Joseph to withhold information from a colleague representing a competitor to the bank. With financial and professional gains at the forefront of his mind, and along with the support of senior members of the firm, Joseph accepted the offer from the bank. At the same time, he also only provided a half-truth to the colleague representing the bank’s competitor when this individual directly confronted him about the specifics of his dealings. Eventually, the full story came out, and his colleague was furious. The relationship remained icy, and thereafter others at Joseph’s firm were wary of working with him. While sharing the story, Joseph admitted he wishes that he had acted differently.

Joseph believes he did not technically cross any ethical lines according to lawyers’ ethical code of conduct, but he still regrets the outcome of his actions. In this way, Joseph’s dilemma is one that does not have a technically “wrong” or “right” answer that he could simply “look up”. This is precisely the type of dilemma that we had in mind when we envisioned the 5 D’s.

In his account, Joseph admits that he felt “torn” about what to do after his initial meeting with the bank. That being said, he did not explicitly categorize the situation as a dilemma. Realizing that you are in the midst of a dilemma is vital to recognizing that you need to slow down and consider the terrain before moving ahead with any gut reaction. Without this first step, it’s unlikely to find a path to the next stages of discussion and deliberation. In Joseph’s case, it’s clear that his jumping to a quick decision cost him his reputation among some of his coworkers.

How might have this story unfolded if Joseph had instead followed the 5 D’s? Let’s imagine a different series of events for Joseph and how they might have led to a more considered outcome.

1. Dilemma: Recognize a difficult decision in your daily life that may not have a “right”  course of action.

As discussed, Joseph felt torn, but that feeling unfortunately did not tip him off that he was in the midst of a dilemma. Had he been aware of the 5 D’s, perhaps he would have recognized that this was a situation with serious implications involving others—implications of which he might not be fully aware—and that he should stop to consider the landscape more carefully.

2.   Discuss: Consult with others regarding possible options, pros and cons and probable consequences of various courses of action.

Had Joseph known he was facing a dilemma, his conversation with the firm’s upper-management might have been presented as a genuine question regarding the appropriate next steps instead of as a “pitch” for approval of his taking on the bank as a client. Ideally, senior partners of a firm are aware of the various matters other lawyers are involved in and would have voiced concern over any competing loyalties. They may have also shared their wisdom and long-view regarding the value of a trustworthy reputation among peers versus the short-term gains of one lucrative contract.

Obviously, to be effective this type of conversation requires “good workers” as colleagues. The senior partners would need to put the firm’s financial gains to the side and be prepared to give honest—even if possibly disappointing—advice to their colleague.

3.  Deliberate: Engage in self-reflection and consideration of the various options available.

If Joseph had engaged in thoughtful discussion with his superiors, he might have then taken time on his own to sift through their advice. Allowing different opinions to settle and to reflect on his own priorities and responsibilities, Joseph may have been able to carefully think through the repercussions of each available course of action.  

4.  Decide: Make and potentially carry out your decision

Joseph says that if he could go back, he would do things differently. He has already written an alternative ending for himself. As Joseph describes in the original narrative:

“I probably would have gone back to the new client, and I probably would have said to him, ‘Look, everyone in our firm is a professional. In order for us to make an intelligent decision about this, I have to have a complete and open conversation with all of my partners, including partners who are connected to the other bank. And you have to just trust my partners that they will not disclose this confidence.’ And then if he had said, ‘Sorry, you’re either going to keep this to yourself or it’s not going to happen,’ then I probably would have declined.”

5.    Debrief: Reflect on the consequences of your decision and how you might handle similar decisions in the future.

Joseph says that over the years he has “told this story many times” and that “most people have advised him that he did the right thing”. We can assume that he is referring to others within the legal profession, but it’s not clear whether or not they are simply trying to console him.

If Joseph had followed the earlier steps, it’s possible that he could have debriefed with the senior partners he spoke with during step 2. This conversation might have also involved the colleague working with the bank’s competitor. It could have been an opportunity to build trust and comradery as a team, feeling like the decision was a group effort.

At the end of the narrative, Joseph describes his regret in how handled the situation:

“I felt that I owed the highest duty to the client, to follow their instructions in terms of not disclosing the matter. I felt I executed my duty of loyalty and candor to my partner as best I could under those circumstances… I think I touched all the right ethical bases, and everything I did was by the book, but it wasn’t necessarily the best way to handle it.”

Perhaps if Joseph had originally recognized this situation as a dilemma and been able to use the 5 D’s as a tool at the start, he would have saved his reputation and salved his conscience.

The problem with a dilemma is that there often isn’t one right or wrong answer. The 5 D’s don’t promise to bring us the “right” answer; but hopefully they help guide us towards the best available option based on our own personal values and ethical framework. And if things did not turn out as well as one had hoped, one still feels one did one’s best and will be better prepared for the next dilemma—assuming it’s recognized as such!

September Wrap-Up: 5 Articles Worth Sharing

by Danny Mucinskas

With the arrival of autumn in the United States, the weather has been turning a little cooler, and a back-to-school season like no other has been underway. While this month was a difficult one on the national stage (COVID cases rising, wildfires ravaging the West, and the death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg), we recognize that, oftentimes, tumultuous situations provide the impetus for people to do good work in the future. We are collecting here a few recent articles about ethics and good work that we found to be thought-provoking to share with our readers.

1.      Who Should Get the COVID-19 Vaccine First? In the race for the development of an effective COVID-19 vaccine, some nations like the U.S. seem to have embraced “vaccine nationalism,” whereby priority would be given to a country’s own citizens in distribution. Ethicists argue that resources should be shared internationally, but also draw a distinction between equal sharing of vaccines relative to population size, which the WHO recommends, and equitable sharing of vaccines in accordance with need.

2.      “The Social Dilemma” Director Says the Internet is Undermining Democracy. Several members of our team have watched Netflix’s new docu-drama “The Social Dilemma,” a portrayal of the dangers of social media, including addiction and mental health crises among users, as well as misinformation campaigns and resulting political instability, that are often overlooked when we focus on the positives of online communication. Jeff Orlowski, the director of the film, argues that social media may threaten democracy itself by creating a climate of outrage and engendering a lack of shared truths.

3.      Are You Lying More in the Pandemic? Some Certainly Are. Research indicates that people are not always honest with each other about their COVID status or possible symptoms. Experts believe the reasons people lie are complex and involve factors like desire for social contact when sick and mental calculus that takes advantage of excuse-making.

4.      Putting Common Sense Back in the Driver’s Seat. Much of the discourse surrounding the use of self-driving cars has focused on dilemmas that look a lot like the classic “trolley problem,” in which a car’s algorithm would have to decide between two groups of people to hit. Julian De Freitas, a Harvard doctoral student, makes the case that these types of dilemmas are oversimplified, unrepresentative of real-world situations, and would require algorithms to recognize ethical dilemmas in a way that is unlikely in practice in the first place.

5.      What is Good Teaching? Author Kristina Rizga presents the case for “good teaching” from The Atlantic’s “On Teaching” project, for which she spoke to a number of veteran educators around the United States in an effort to collect their wisdoms before their retirements. She finds that effective teaching involves navigating a world constantly in flux, addressing student needs with individuality and attention, and overcoming the challenges of funding cuts, inequalities, and a policy landscape that does not often invite teacher perspectives.

Encouraging College Students’ Responsibility During the Pandemic

by Shelby Clark

A few weeks ago, The Good Project researcher Kirsten McHugh wrote about “Parents as Educators: A Good Work Perspective”. But what about the other side of the story--the students? What does it mean for students to be good workers during a pandemic?

As college campuses have become the new “hot spot” for COVID-19 outbreaks, this question has become even more important. College students consistently encounter ethical dilemmas, but the pandemic has thrust new ethical dilemmas upon them, such as whether to “snitch” on fellow classmates holding gatherings, or even large parties where numerous people might become infected. Because of COVID-19 we are now asking young adults to think more and more beyond their own needs, and to be responsible as well to others in their community and society; yet, we know from past research that youth often have difficulty with such “beyond the self” thinking. With COVID-19 constantly throwing new dilemmas in young people’s ways, how can we as educators and adults help our students to think about their responsibilities to self and others during the pandemic? 

When trying to help youth handle ethical dilemmas, it is helpful to use a tool such as The Good Project’s Rings of Responsibility. This tool was originally designed to help individuals think about to whom or what they are responsible in their work. The rings of responsibility are five concentric circles that begin with responsibility to oneself, and then expand to wider and wider areas of responsibility. The second ring represents responsibility to others, like family, peers, and friends; the third ring represents responsibility to community, such as one’s school or neighborhood; the fourth ring represents responsibility to one’s profession, which, for students, indicates commitment to being a student and the rules and norms of being a student; and the fifth ring represents responsibility to the wider world or to society as a whole (see image). 

Let’s take the example of whether a student should “snitch” on their classmate’s unallowed party on a college campus in the age of COVID-19. Below, I consider how I might reflect on my own responsibilities if I were a student in such a situation. 

• Self: I would most likely feel guilty if I did not inform on my classmates. As such, “snitching” would be a way to ease my guilt and by doing so act responsibly towards myself.

• Others: Perhaps the classmate holding the party is a close friend; if so, I would think that my responsibility to “others'' would be to not tell on the friend in order to save my friendship. 

• Community: On the one hand, I can see that being responsible towards my community means informing on the party; in doing so I can protect the public health of other students on the college campus. On the other hand, I’ve seen as a researcher that when students are expelled for misbehavior, it can create stark divisions on campuses that lead to mistrust amongst the student body--it may therefore be better for the community’s mental well-being that I keep silent after all.  

• Profession: Are there codes of conduct for the students at their university regarding these parties? If so, informing an authority is likely the correct thing to do according to the student code of conduct. I would also need to consider whether doing so would promote or hinder student learning at the university, which is, ultimately, the “point” of higher education. 

• Wider World: In light of the ripple effect seen from a variety of parties held during the pandemic, it seems likely that informing on a classmate’s party could save lives. 

Ultimately, the choice becomes whether I would not inform on the hypothetical campus party and potentially save a friendship and campus dynamics, or whether I would “snitch” and uphold the college community’s public health, the student code of conduct, societal public health, and ease my own guilt. For me, as an adult, the choice is clear: the outer rings of responsibility should come first, and I would inform on the party. However, for youth the choice is often not as transparent. 

Given that youth often have difficulty thinking beyond their own self-interest, it is more important than ever that adults and educational institutions continue to find ways to help young people to think about, and make decisions in light of, their broader impacts on society. Certainly, considering the rings of responsibility doesn’t give a student the answer of what to do in a difficult situation. In fact, students might feel that it pits their responsibilities against one another--what’s good for them versus what’s good for others. Ultimately, though, it should help a student consider the pros and cons of a situation, and how they might weigh their various responsibilities to self and others when things become difficult. We know the pandemic will continue to throw new ethical challenges in the way of our students; as such, let’s give students the skills needed to become the socially responsible adults the world needs.

Visiting (or Revisiting) Solidarity

by Lynn Barendsen

I recently had the opportunity to participate in a conference dedicated to Service Learning.  The 23rd International Service Learning Conference was hosted by CLAYSS, the Latin American Center for Service Learning.  My fellow panelists and I addressed “The Importance of Educating in and for Solidarity.”

Prior to this plenary, I had not given much thought to the idea of solidarity.  In my North American mind, the word has vague political connotations, usually associated with unions, demonstrations and the movement in Poland started by Lech Walesa.  In preparation for our conversation, I unpacked the definition, which (according to Webster) is in fact about unity -- based on shared interests or objectives.  Not necessarily political at all (acknowledging of course that these days everything can be political),  the notion of  “solidarity” is in fact connected to three concepts that are central to good work and the Good Project:  alignment (or misalignment); responsibility; and meaning in work.   In this blog, I revisit the concept of solidarity as it’s been informed by conversation and reflection.

During the course of our time together, my fellow panelists and I touched on a number of ideas.  

• Joseph Puig, who studies Moral Education at Barcelona University, stressed that educating for solidarity is urgent.  As he describes it, we are confronting a series of crises: climate crisis, the excess of inequalities, attacks on democracies, COVID 19.  We have to find a way to collaborate because none of these crises will be solved with individual solutions.

  • On the Good Project, we often talk about alignment and misalignment.  Alignment happens when all of the various groups or relevant parties involved want the same things, or work towards a common goal.  Take just one of the crises outlined above:  it seems plausible to imagine that we all hope to end COVID 19.  However, how we make that happen, especially in the US, is not something we can agree upon.  We are horribly misaligned, and efforts to collaborate seem increasingly stalled.  Some states have had much more success than others, and yet the solutions that work in one state are not necessarily applied to others.  Of course for COVID (and climate change, and numerous other crises), we are not just concerned with agreement within a state or a country—unless there is global consensus, all efforts are destined to fail.

• Puig went on to emphasize that solidarity can bring with it a sense of belonging, a feeling of companionship, as people who are members of the group understand the same reality.   The group could be a nation, a team, a religion.  We have solidarity with those who are part of that reality. Puig emphasized that of course, this can be negative or can turn negative when turned into an “us vs. them” scenario.

  • Feelings of “companionship” or “belonging” can happen with individuals who are very different from ourselves.  I’ve observed high school students from 15 different countries and varied socioeconomic backgrounds working together on service learning projects. As part of the Global Citizens Initiative, rather than be separated by their differences, they gained a sense of shared community and purpose. They felt they “belonged” and as a result, felt a responsibility to one another.  We’ve learned from our Good Project research that sense of responsibility to something greater than oneself is unusual in US high school students (see, for example Fischman et al, Making Good).  Clearly service learning is not the only way to create positive belonging as opposed to confrontation and distrust;, but at its best, and at least in one powerful case, it may be that service learning can produce a  sense of community, or solidarity, and help to inform one’s own identity as a result.

• Alberto Croce, Director of VOX in Argentina, argued that there is an inherent activism in service learning, often teachers who embrace the “cause” go beyond a formal commitment.  As a result, Croce suggested that the service learning experience often becomes a collective, shared experience.

  • In our Good Work research, we spoke with many educators who were deeply committed to their students.  Their work often went “above and beyond” - beyond regular hours and beyond “formal” commitments.  The shared experiences between teachers and students can be positive experiences for both; teachers often describe learning from students, feeling a deep sense of meaning in their work; students identify teachers as role models for a lifetime.   And yet teachers who give too much of themselves (especially in these days of remote learning),  may well suffer from burnout and exhaustion.  Having a religious basis for work, or having colleagues that share the same mission, whether frankly religious or religious in spirit, can sometimes spell the difference between continuing and dropping out.  In any case, finding balance has perhaps never been more important—and rarely been more challenging.

These kinds of understandings about solidarity are in many ways foreign to citizens of the United States, who are sometimes all about independence, and to whom any reference of a “collective” starts to raise eyebrows. (Of course, this is much less true about Latin America, and even less true about Canada)  In fact, a heightened awareness about collective solutions and shared responsibility might well benefit our increasingly divided country. 

Perhaps we might also be able to consider the simultaneous weight and rewards of meaningful work as we think about issues of balance in today’s COVID working world.  If those involved in service learning express a strong sense of community, it may well teach us something about the third “E,” engagement, and how these service workers they find meaning in what they do.  They are engaged, at least in part, because they feel a part of something bigger than themselves.  They express a sense of belonging.  With that heightened sense of community comes an additional sense of responsibility, specifically, a responsibility to the community or communities of which they feel a part.  As we adjust to our new work realities, we can learn much from the concept of solidarity if we embrace rather than shy away from collective solutions.